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Sunday, June 26, 2016

Deep Meanings! or Mykel Board's Post MRR Column no. 35

Deep Meaning/ No Meaning

Mykel's

Post
MRR Column no 35

I
don't want to be a tree, I want to be its meaning.” --Orhan
Pamuk

"The
more we know about the universe, the more meaningless it appears.”
--Steven Weinberg, Nobel
Physicist

"What
is useful to us generally conflicts with what is true.”
--Julian Barnes

Meaning

by
Mykel Board

1970-something:
If she had a few more teeth, she'd be almost pretty. I forget if it's
crack or speed that does it... If I close my eyes... those gums...
stroking up and down on my five inches of throbbing flesh... they
aren't so bad. When I look at her... that view from the top of her
head with the greasy black hair... just-this-side-of-intentional
dreadlocks... her nose... light blue veins under translucent skin..
moves back and forth to the beat of her lips

In
an objective way... me detached from my body... there... behind CBGBs
where the bands load-in... under the faint glow of a spotlight... I
watch myself, leaned up against the filthy brick... my own blue veins
appearing and disappearing under the nose of the young woman on her
knees in the tar in front of me. The veins of her nose are a
counterpoint to the veins of my tumescent baby carrot. I can feel her
lips... dry... chapped... wet and rewet by her dripping tongue.

My
body calls to me... a pulsing seminal call. I answer:

“Yes!
Yes! Yes!”

A
thin white dribble falls from the side of her mouth.

Five
dollars later, I'm around the corner and back inside CBGBs. It's the
DEAD BOYS tonight. Just those two intro chords to Sonic Reducer...
DAHN DAHAN... send a thrill up my spine that matches anything a crack
whore can do.

“Yo
Mykel,” comes the voice.

If
there's one thing I hate, it's THE READER injecting himself in what
I'm writing. I'm not even writing and already THE READER is butting
in like a radical at a political rally.

“I'm
trying to watch the band,” I tell THE READER. “Can you at least
wait until they're done? It's the fuckin' DEAD BOYS!”

“Yo
Mykel,” comes the voice again. “You just told a story about a
crack whore blow job behind CBGBs. You did it for some reason. It
MEANS something...”

“What
do you think it means?” I ask.

“You're
saying that we're all whores, and that a crackhead blowjob is no more
exploitation than a California grape harvest.”

“Nope,”
I answer. “That's not what I'm saying at all.”

“Well
then,” comes the reply, “you're saying that sex is just a matter
of friction, and it's ridiculous to romanticize it with soft music or
poppunk love songs pretending LOVE when all anything is... is
sex.”

“I might think that,” I say. “But it's not why I
wrote this.”

“Then
what does it mean?” comes the rather whiny reply.

Listen
asshole, sometimes a crack whore blow job is just a crack whore blow
job. It doesn't MEAN anything. It's not happy or sad or a metaphor.
It's not a sign of society's this or that. It's not a signal to do
this or that. It is itself! Chapped lips on a penis. Five inches of
depth... nothing deeper than that.

Flash
to Now: I begin to write this a few days after some guy in
Orlando blasts a hundred homosexuals with a semi-automatic machine
gun.

Kerpow!
Kerpow! He's holed up in the bathroom. Semi-automatic,
semi-automaticing the panicked homotude. People down... bleeding...
dying... The cops take hours to get there. Kerpow! Kerpow! Blood...
rivers of it greasing the dancefloor. The cops break in through the
wall. Kerpow! Kerpow! Kill the guy.

News
comes dribbing and drabbing. He's a white Christian, on an anti-gay
rampage. He's a Muslim. He's a security guard for a company with
secret government contracts. He's a soldier for ISIS. He only pledged
himself to ISIS minutes before he started firing. He's a homo
himself.

On
and on. Speculation, pronouncements, false news, half truths...
political statements... a circus.

Months
before, the FBI's investigated him. They found nothing. There were no
charges... an investigation... that's all! But, they investigated
him! That's enough for people who want guns banned for “the
accused,” whether guilty or not. Forget the idea of innocent until
proven guilty. In American in 2016, accused is guilty enough.

He
was a Muslim. Forget the fact he was on Grindr. Forget that he was a
regular at the club. Forget that he tried to set up dates with other
guys. Forget the fact that a Chassid on a rampage murdered a fellow
Jew at a gay pride parade in Israel. This guy was a Muslim. That's
enough.

He
was gay. Forget the fact he had a kid. Forget that he was married.
Forget that there are more choices than being gay or being straight.
He was gay. That's enough.

He
had a gun. Forget the fact that if others had had guns he could have
been stopped. Forget the fact that most people who have guns don't
shoot anyone. Forget the fact that Americans celebrate people with
guns... from cowboys to soldiers. He had a gun. That's enough.

People
talking shit.... shit... shit... shit and more shit.

What
does it mean? That we need to ban guns? Ban Muslims? That
homosexuals kill each other? That homosexuals have to protect each
other. That trannies should be allowed to use women's bathrooms? No!
No! No!

Sometimes a blowjob from a crack whore is just a
blowjob from a crack whore. It doesn't have to MEAN anything. A nut
with a gun... a club with some homosexuals... BANG! BANG! BANG! Dead
people. That's what it is.

Sure,
it's pain and horror for those involved, but that's not a reason why
it has to MEAN something. More Muslims DON'T kill people than DO kill
people. More homosexuals die in car accidents than in nightclubs.

Death
and pain are there... part of life. They make us sad... or angry...
or fearful... but they don't MEAN anything. Get it? Sometimes a
crack whore blowjob is just a crack whore blowjob.

ENDNOTES:
[You can contact me by email at god@mykelboard.com. Through the post
office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or
anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY
10012-0003. If you like my writing, you can be notified when anything
new is available by subscribing to the MYKEL'S READERS Yahoo group
readmboard-subscribe@yahoogroups.com]

-->Didn't
you read the contract dept: In
May of this year, the Norwegian Consumer Council staged a live,
32-hour
TV broadcast marathon
-- a word-for-word reading of the "terms of service" for
internet applications Instagram,
Spotify
and more than two dozen others. This totaled 900 pages and 250,000
words of legal restrictions and conditions. Millions of users
"voluntarily" agree to them when they sign up-- usually
through a mouse click. A local government official called such terms
"bordering on the absurd, as consumers could not possibly
understand everything they were legally binding themselves to."

I
say, isn't that the idea?

-->Good
thing he wasn't a Muslim dept: Convicted
murderer Charles
Floreswas
on Texas' death row for more than 16 years (until June 2 of this
year) before the state's highest criminal appeals court ruled that
the execution might not be justified. Why? The most important
evidence was provided by a witness whom the police had hypnotized.
The trial judge, and the jury, had accepted that "hypnosis"
could lead to "recovered" memory. This was a popular theory
in the 1980s and 1990s. It was often used in pedophile and satanism
cases. These days, the idea is recognized as bullshit.

There
was no physical evidence against Flores. So, for some reason, they
didn't kill him... yet. We'll see what happens.

-->She
passes on balls dept:Melissa
Meijacomplained
that (get this) she was allowed to graduate from High School despite
the fact she had failing grades and didn't do her homework. Her
teacher said she (the teacher) was put under tremendous pressure by
the school to pass the student to boost the school's graduation rate.

If
I were the principal, I'd say PASS THAT GIRL, just on honesty.

This
whole thing is one of the evil legacies of Billionaire Mayor Michael
Bloomberg. He's the one who brought the whole “failing schools”
concept to NY education. He
should not be given a passing grade.

-->And
a touch of good news Dept: I'd
guess from the boxing gloves that the Yippies who now run an
“underground boxing bar” on Bleecker St. are responsible for
this. I also guess they they don't have permission from CBGB to use
the logo, so

that's
why the last B is missing. But I like the mural, and I'm glad to see
wall painting praised instead of Giuliani-ed to a prison cell-- with
or without hypnosis.

-->
Keeping
the Pressure on Dept:
I want to thank reader George Metesky for suggesting a continuing
Bring
Back Mykel
effort directed at Maximum
Rock'n'Roll
for censoring me.

As
their revolving editrixes move on to commercial ventures, each blames
her predecessors for my demise... as if they had no control over the
business... and couldn't simply invite me back.

Send
your comments to
mrr@maximumrocknroll.com (or
post on their facebook
page)
with the subject line: BRING BACK MYKEL! Let me know how they answer.

2 comments:

Tumescent baby carrot! Good heavens. Anyway, I've always said that crackwhore blowjob is just a blowjob that would have been the absence of a blowjob so we must accept what we can afford. I think your piece should have been about the free market. But it was amusing anyway.